


We Shall Meet Again

by AccursedLover



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, FFXV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 15:10:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12279021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccursedLover/pseuds/AccursedLover
Summary: Ardyn decides to pay one last visit to see his beloved before he surrenders to his destiny.





	We Shall Meet Again

Darkness was everywhere around him. The clouds, the trees, and the very air he breathed were all infested with the Scourge he had wrought upon the world. Every inch of every mile was saturated in an ever-growing blackness that the Gods themselves could not vanquish. The once lush gardens of the courtyard were withering away with each passing day; the sun was no longer visible; the blessed, life-giving star had been snuffed out by the thick clouds years ago. In turn, life as everyone knew it would soon be no more.

The Harbinger, spiteful and wicked, made his way through the dying forest behind the Crown City. His shoes left shallow prints upon the fragile, browning grasses with every step he took. His stride, though as graceful as the blessed summer rains, was uneven and painful. He had been walking for several miles, and he had several more to go still. Despite his agony, he continued the journey, taking in the sight of the dead trees as he passed them by. The barren branches were like skeletons, jutting out toward the blackening heavens above them in search of warmth. In an ironic way, they had reminded the Fallen King of himself.

He continued on his way, the pain in his left leg flaring in protest as he ascended a steep hill, Just a little ways to go now. He coached himself, You must. You have to. For her. His mind might have been long gone from his two-thousand years of forced, solitary captivity, but his heart was still very much intact. It still beat for the people he loved; even if they were as gone as the age in which they were born. The many faces he had seen, the names he had learned, the people he had healed, and the praising voices of his people; his broken heart still beat like a drum for them. Though, there was one person that he found himself thinking of as he crested the hill,

_Eliza._ The maiden he had fallen for, the one constant in his life, was all he ever thought about. From the day they met, to the present, her name and face were always with him. He could see her now in his mind’s eye. Her fair skin, lightly freckled at her cheeks. Her long, thick, earthy hair. Her beautiful, baby blue eyes that shone like twin stars in the night. Her soft, pale lips; as sweet as honeysuckles. To him, she was a maiden like no other. A goddess, a Valkyrie, a garden in spring; he had called her many things. One of them, was ‘his’.

\---

It had been a cool, autumn night when they had taken to the forest. He had donned his coat, tunic, and vest. She, a beautiful, white dress with golden trim. The sleeves were long and flowing, much like her hair as the breeze combed through it with careful fingers. Her collarbone was slightly visible, granting the young King partial sight of her breasts. Though, he did not care for such sights when he was already lost in her presence. The moon casted its silver glow upon her hair, making her appear as though she wore a halo. To top off her look of purity, a crown of pink and blue flowers rested atop her head.

Hands clasped together, they rushed beyond the trees, and into a clearing, wherein a friend waited. He was rather old, with a receding line of white hair. His beard was snowy as well, with a few, rare strands of coal buried within. In his weathered hands, a book of sacred texts rested, **  
  
** “Are we ready, friends?” He rumbled as he opened the ancient volume to the centermost passages. The young King, still holding onto his love, stepped forward,

“Indeed we are, friar.” His response was unsteady from the building excitement as he stood before Eliza.

“Then let us begin,” The friar began to read through each verse in his deep, rough voice, “Thus, the Gods deem every man, woman, and child worthy- Oh piss on it,” he smiled as he gazed upon the couple, “If I were to read everything, we would be here all night. Let us commence with the vows,” He cleared his throat, “O’ wondrous Gods, please look down upon these lowly mortals, and see that they love each other as they love you. Look upon them, give them your blessings, and allow them to bear children in your names.” He paused for a moment,

“Ardyn Lucis Caelum, son of Corrin Lucis Caelum. And Elizabeth Saxham, daughter of Frederick Saxham. I bring these two before you in holy union. Do you, Ardyn Lucis Caelum, take Elizabeth Saxham to be your wife?”

“I do,” Ardyn replied whole-heartedly as he gazed upon his wife-to-be. He saw the world in her; his world.

“And do you, Elizabeth Saxham, take Ardyn Lucis Caelum to be your husband?”

“I do!” She replied with equal fervor, staring into Ardyn’s ember depths.

 

“Then so shall it be,” The friar closed the tome, “I now declare thee husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Without delay, Ardyn crushed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. At last, they were wed. They could be together under the protection of the Six, and no one could stop them. However, as the dawn began to break the following day, disaster struck; Eliza was hunted down, deemed a witch, and burned at the stake. While Ardyn was tortured and executed.

\---

The elder Scourge bringer had finally descended the hillside, his vision blurred by his own tears as he approached a lone, seemingly-unmarked grave. Time had not been kind to the old headstone that had once named the resting soul beneath it. It was covered in hanging moss, and the engraving was weathered away. Still, Ardyn could see the name as clearly as the day he had stumbled upon it. The worn letters, which were indecipherable to most, spelled out the sacred name: ‘ELIZA’. Ardyn, as silent as the eternal night itself, sat before the grave, his feet under him,

“Hello, love,” Ardyn croaked as he wiped away the stinging tears, “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” He allowed his cognac eyes to roam over the neglected flowers that littered the site. Most of them were dead, lying upon the dirt like broken bodies. However, three of them were somehow still alive. Pink and blue wildflowers, like those that made up her crown, offered some warmth amid the growing, sunless cold. The sight brought a pained smile to his face,

“I had that dream again. Us being married in the forest. You, in that beautiful dress, with flowers in your hair.” He sniffled, “That was the best dream I’ve had in ages. Hell, it’s the best memory I have of those days.” He composed himself before continuing,

“I’m sorry for not stopping by for so long. I had quite a bit of work to do. You see, I’ve-” He paused to reign in his overflowing emotions, “I’ve been getting things ready for my last days here,” He managed to keep smiling as tears flowed freely down his cheeks. He had spent every moment of his time on Angelguard, and every second of his days in Nifelheim, planning his final moments on Eos. He had wanted rest -Gods, he needed it-, and he was going to have it. However, rest was the last thing on his mind.

“I’m not sure when it will be, but I shall be coming to see you.” He could feel every part of his foundation crack as more tears flowed freely down his face, “I promise we will be together again.” Much like the day he found her grave, his words were met with silence. His body trembled as his breath hitched,

“Eliza, please,” He sobbed, “Please be there to greet me in the afterlife. I need to see you.” Silence. He sat there for what seemed to be an eternity, sobbing. His soul was exposed to Eliza’s grave. It was raw, bleeding, and broken; longing for mercy, love, and understanding. As his eyes ran dry and his trembling ceased, he could hear the faint roar of a familiar engine. The Chosen King was approaching the ruined city,

“I’m afraid the time is nigh. I must have my final audience with the Chosen King.” With new resolve, Ardyn rose to his feet, and turned away, “Fare thee well for now, Eliza.” Without looking back, Ardyn trudged toward the hill, his tear-stained face hardening with every step,

“We shall meet again when dawn break. I love you.” He crested the hill, and began the journey back to the Citadel, steeling himself for the agony he would no doubt face.


End file.
